


Untitled Piece

by QDS



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: 15 minute ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-07
Updated: 2005-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QDS/pseuds/QDS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/15minuteficlets/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/15minuteficlets/"><b>15minuteficlets</b></a>. Challenge word: Fretful</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Piece

Jet had trained himself well to hide his worry. He'd learned early on in the ISSP that to show that you were worried was a weakness. So instead he displayed a whole gamut of other emotions, ranging for mild annoyance to irritation to boiling rage.

Somehow none of them ever seemed to work right. Spike would either shrug, or mutter a half-hearted apology, or would match glare for glare and slam his own fist on the table.

Today, it was the latter response.

"The Swordfish was barely an inch away from that freighter! What were you thinking?"

"I had to! You wanted that bounty, didn't you?"

Jet snarled. "Not if it meant you dying."

"You'd care?"

Jet clenched his metal hand, and resisted the overwhelming urge to punch Spike. He leaned back against the couch, and folded his arms, and took a deep breath. For a while, they were silent. Jet looked into Spike's mismatched eyes. The red one almost seemed on fire.

"I worry, Spike." Jet's voice was quiet. "And you damn well why I do."

The fire almost quelled in that moment. Spike looked away from Jet. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs, his chin on his hands.

"It gets so old-man-ish, Jet. You...fret." Spike shook his head. "I wasn't being reckless. Not this time."

"Hmm."

If Jet were honest with himself, he'd have admitted that yes, Spike had been careful. Risky, but careful.

But Jet hated the worry. The fretting. The fear that one day Spike wouldn't make it out of one his dare-doing twirls in the middle of space.

What he hated more was knowing that Spike only cared about that to a point. After that, Jet's feelings vanished into no importance. And all that remained was the thrill of the chase, and the possibility of death on the other side.


End file.
